


Shatter

by alrightginger



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Female Harry Potter, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Percy teaches transfiguation, Smut, Teacher-Student Relationship, The Harriet/Percy fic no one asked for
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-19
Updated: 2020-11-19
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:41:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27634250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alrightginger/pseuds/alrightginger
Summary: Percy finds many things about Harriet Potter infuriating. The main thing being the way she makes him feel.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Percy Weasley
Comments: 15
Kudos: 191





	Shatter

**Author's Note:**

> So. Absolutely no one asked for this. I have to be honest and say that I've never once in my life considered this pairing, but they came to me in a dream and I couldn't stop thinking about it. 
> 
> So this happened as a result. 
> 
> Fair warning, this story features a teacher/student relationship. Harriet is 18, but I know that can make some people uncomfortable. 
> 
> Please let me know what you think about this. I'm considering writing a second part, and want to know if it has an audience first.

Percy finds many things about Harriet Potter infuriating. 

Her hair, her eyes, the way she looks directly at him with a challenging glare. He hates the way she can so carefully tow the line between breaking the rules and staying within them that she never gets properly in trouble for the things she does. For the things she ropes his brother into doing. 

More than anything though he hates the way she makes him feel. 

He hates the sort of power she has over him to make his heart pound so painfully in his chest. She shouldn’t be able to do that. He shouldn’t give her enough headspace to let her do such a thing. 

George is completely infatuated with her, making her off limits, but more than that, she’s now his student this year. 

Another thing that’s infuriating. Those short, short skirts that shouldn’t even be in dress code. 

“Miss Potter,” he snaps one day as class is underway. “Kindly remind me what you should be doing right now.”

Harriet looks at him, one pretty leg thrown over the other, far more of her sun kissed legs being exposed than should be legal. 

“We’re reviewing bird conjuring charms,” she answers easily. “I’ve already accomplished mine, as you can see.”

Percy follows her gesture towards a flock of birds that are acting just as lazy as their conjure. They look nearly  _ bored.  _ He sighs.

“See me after class, Miss Potter,” he says, moving around to address another group of students. He doesn’t have to turn to know that she’s burning a hole in the back of his head with her glare. 

She nearly always is.

The second half of class drags by with Harriet paying far more attention to him than she had been during the first part. He refuses to look directly at her until everyone else is filing out silently, his youngest brother stopping to make sure that she’s okay. 

He’s  _ always  _ doing that, it seems. 

He’s taken it upon himself to be her knight. Percy wishes that he would reconsider with all the times she’s nearly sacrificed him in the process. 

With one last look in his direction, Percy watches as Ron leaves with Hermione, and he’s left alone with Harriet. 

It’s not a position he enjoys finding himself in. 

“Harriet,” he says, taking a different approach by using her first name. He hates the way it makes him shiver. “Sit, let’s talk.” 

He watches as she takes the seat across from him, and perches himself on his desk. She’s got the top two buttons of her shirt undone, and she’s missing her tie. Such unkemptness shouldn’t appeal to him, but it does. 

“I did what you asked of me,” she says, cutting to the chase. “I performed the spell. I did it well.”

“I’m not denying that,” Percy says, adjusting his glasses. He sighs. “You’re  _ bored,  _ Harriet.”

“Wha --”

“We can’t exactly act like you wanted to come back to finish your education this year,” Percy says, cutting her off. “We both know that it’s the last thing you wanted to do, but you’re stuck in this sort of limbo after the war. You’re not ready for the real world, but you’re well past Hogwarts.”

Harriet looks like she wants to fight him. He almost wishes that she would, and he doesn’t know why. All he knows is that his heart is pounding as her emerald eyes harden at him. 

“You don’t know what I want.”

“Perhaps not, but I do know that you are wasting your talent. You’re capable of more than you give yourself credit for.”

“I’m doing exactly what the curriculum is asking of me!”   
  


“I know,” he admits. “That’s why I want you to start meeting with me twice a week so we can hone your skills in other areas.”

_ What is he saying?  _

Percy feels as if he’s having an out of body experience. This hadn’t been the plan. He is supposed to be telling her that she needs to at least try to engage in class. That she needs to attempt to not be so bored with him. 

But now he’s basically inviting her to spend more time with him -  _ one on one time -  _ when he can barely breath in the class he’s already required to teach her. 

“Hone my skills?” she repeats, looking like she’s just received detention. Perhaps she would have preferred a detention. 

“Yes,” he hears himself say. He seems to have no control. “Starting tomorrow after dinner. Meet me here. Let’s see if we can find something that won’t bore you, shall we?”

Harriet flounders, opening her mouth and shutting it in a way that shouldn’t thrill him but it does. She can’t fight him. He’s her professor. 

Though she can certainly  _ try.  _ He’d be willing to entertain one of their spats. 

“Fine,” she grumbles a second later, submitting and standing. She adjusts her bag, exposing her collarbone in the process. His mouth goes dry. “I’ll see you tomorrow,  _ professor.” _

She nearly spits the word at him, but it doesn’t stop the tingles he feels when she says it. 

He is fucked. 

“Have a good rest of your day, Harriet,” he calls to her, shuffling his papers. 

He sees her stop by the doorway from the corner of his eyes. 

“Why do you do that?” she asks, hand against the door frame.

“Do what?”

“You’re the only one who calls me that,” she says, turning slowly to look at him. “Harriet. Everyone else calls me Harry.”

He regards her for a long moment before swallowing.

“I’m not everyone else.”

* * *

One of the main reasons Percy had been hesitant about taking the position of transfiguration professor at Hogwarts had been because of Harriet. 

The thought of being locked inside a castle with her on top of actually having to teach her had been enough to make him pause. It isn’t a secret in his family that he didn’t approve of her for a long time. He chalks that up to being misguided and misled by his past position in the ministry. 

Also just for the fact that he was an arse. 

He knows it’s not Harriet’s actual fault that he disapproved of her so. 

But it’s the fact that his disapproval faded and formed into something new after the war. After they had been forced to spend so much time around each other when she had been recuperating at the Burrow, and Percy had moved back home for a bit to help his mother after Fred’s death. 

He would bring her meals every morning, and find himself infuriated when she wouldn’t eat. 

Did she want to die? He’d ask her so, and she’d throw the bowl of uneaten oatmeal back at him. Ron would escort him out, telling him not to rile Harriet up, but it was hard back then. He couldn’t figure out why he felt so...out of control around her, so he took to lecturing her. To being significantly harder on her than anyone else around him. 

He realized later after moving into Hogwarts, after their first day of classes when he couldn’t tear his eyes away from her legs, that his disapproval for her had formed into attraction. 

He’s  _ infatuated  _ with the girl. 

Dangerously so, considering the fact that he’s now in a position of power over her as her professor. Her appeal doesn’t necessarily come as a shock. She’s a beautiful girl with features that stand out against his own. With her raven hair and her emerald eyes, she looks like a fairy tail character. 

Perhaps that’s part of his enticement with her. What lures him into her. 

He looks at her and he can’t look away. 

He doesn't know what would happen if he were to touch her. 

Even just once. 

* * *

“I’m here,” Harriet’s voice bounces around the stone walls of his classroom.

It’s sarcasm echoes.

He rolls his eyes, smirking. She’s already agitated with him so this should go swimmingly. 

Brilliant. 

“Please come in and -” He turns and swallows. She’s still in her uniform. He had expected her to go back and change. It would have been easier on him if she had gone back to her room and  _ changed.  _ “ - sit down.”

Harriet looks at him oddly probably because he’s behaving oddly. He must look like he’s been struck by the Knight Bus. Her knee high socks have that effect over him. 

“What do you have for me today, professor?” she asks, sliding into her seat and looking at him with her chin resting on her hand. 

She’s the picture of innocence. He knows that she’s not. She’s taken down a Dark Lord, after all. 

She can just as easily take him down, and he feels like she’s halfway to doing so. 

He clears his throat. “I thought we could start with focusing on more human transfiguration that we’ll cover in our lessons in class this year.”

“I’ve already studied that,” Harriet says, looking at him with a confused expression. 

Percy smiles softly at her. “I know you have, but I think you can improve. I always think there’s room for improvement.” 

Harriet lifts her chin away from her hand to cross her arms at him. He’s struck a nerve. 

“Okay. So what will you have me do?”

_ So much,  _ he thinks.  _ I would have you do so much if I could.  _

“We’ll start off simple. Human transfiguration always has the potential of going horribly wrong if you’re not careful.”

Harriet snorts. It’s a pretty sound. “Yet you’re having me practice on you, so you must have some faith in me.”

Percy shakes his head, amused. “Not on me,” he corrects. He adores correcting her. “On yourself.”

_ “What?”  _ Harriet starts. “But I thought — you said —”

“Problem, Miss Potter?” Percy asks, tilting his head at her. “I thought you said you’d studied this already.”

“I have, but…” She trails off, biting her lip. He watches with vested interest. 

“But you’re not as confident practicing on yourself as you would be with me?” Percy finishes for her. “Because if you mess up on yourself, you’re less likely to find that amusing.”

She looks like a child who's been caught with their hand in the chocolate frog jar. He thrills at this. 

“Stop.”

“Stop what, Miss Potter?”

“You know what,” she says, frustrated. “And stop calling me  _ Miss Potter.  _ I’m Harriet — I mean, Harry. Just Harry. You’re not that much older than me. We went to school together. You don’t need to call me Miss Potter.”

“But you’re my student now,” he says, slipping into the role of teacher like an old robe. “You call me professor, do you not? Why should I treat you differently than anyone else?”

“Because I’m  _ not e _ veryone else,” she says, standing abruptly. He doesn’t back away when she takes a few steps towards him. “We both stayed at the Burrow this summer. I’ve practically grown up with you. I know how you take your  _ tea  _ for Merlin’s sake! I don’t know that about any of my other professors!”

“Minerva takes hers with two teaspoons of sugar,” Percy says, unable to resist teasing her. He isn’t like this with anyone else. 

Harriet growls. He feels the vibration of it down to his toes. “Stop! Stop that!”

“Stop what?” he asks her again. “You need to be more specific. I cannot help you unless I know what exactly about me is making you mad.”

“You’re just… you’re making me... _ you’re so frustrating!”  _

Ah. Progress. 

It’s almost nice to know that she finds him frustrating too. 

That he has a similar effect on her that she does on him. 

Without thinking about it, he tucks two fingers underneath her chin, watching her eyes go wide as he does so. It’s almost worth his lack of judgement, her reaction. 

“What can I do to help with that, Miss Potter?”

Harriet’s lips part, but no sound follows. She’s dumbstruck for the first time around him. The silence is deafening enough to allow Percy time to come to his senses and he pulls his hand away as though he’s been scalded.

He’s  _ touched  _ her. 

He’s her professor and he’s riled her up and touched her inappropriately. 

He isn’t sure what’s come over him. He just knows he’s never in his right mind around her. 

Percy is about to apologize, about to beg her for forgiveness, when suddenly she throws herself at him. He stumbles at first, not expecting the weight of her to collide with him, and he supposes the shock of that is what causes him to not fully realize she’s kissing him for several long seconds. 

She’s so tightly wrapped around him, her arms intertwined around his neck, that she’s standing on the tips of her toes, leaning into him and expecting him to catch her. To hold onto her. To not let her fall. 

And he’s never been so fully trusted by anyone like this before that he becomes dizzy, leaning back against his desk for support. 

Her lips are crushing, bruising. Everything that he’s always seen her be in dueling, she gives to him in this kiss. 

He nearly forgets to kiss her  _ back  _ when his mind starts to kick in and one of his hands moves from her waist to grip her jaw, tilting it at just the perfect angle to elicit a groan that he feels vibrate through him. 

He shudders.

She has to withdraw a second later, removing herself from him with just enough time to get a breath of air before she closes the gap again. He finds himself chasing her mouth, capturing her lower lip in his teeth just to know what it’s like, and shivering as she whines. 

This is too much, he knows. 

It’s an awful idea, kissing Harriet. Even if he can’t quite remember  _ why  _ that is at the moment. 

Her hands unlock themselves from around his neck to flatten out against his chest, and he wonders if she can feel the breath he takes from her as she touches him there. 

_ “Percy,”  _ she pants against his lips. No one has ever said his name like that before. He doesn’t want anyone else but her to do so. 

She tastes like nothing he’s ever had before. The oddest mixture of cinnamon and honey, and he finds himself sweeping his tongue into her mouth for more. 

And,  _ oh,  _ she likes that, judging by the primal sort of sound she makes. 

She’s opening her mouth to him, tilting her head even more and tugging at the collar of his shirt when there’s a sound of a  _ crash  _ outside his classroom door. They jump apart, startled and breathing heavily. 

His door is still closed, the curtain drawn shut. 

There’s no way anyone saw anything. Likely it’s just Peeves causing trouble, which he’s prone to do outside of Percy’s class on occasion. 

But he isn’t allowed in so even he couldn’t know about them. 

Still, Harriet hand covers her mouth in horror, and her eyes are wide as she looks at him. 

“Harriet,” he says, approaching her cautiously. 

“We just —  _ I  _ just — I can’t believe…” 

She’s as inarticulate as ever, the blush on her face turning a pretty shade of pink. 

She apparently hadn’t thought through the consequences of kissing him. He’s not surprised. It’s not her way of doing things, after all. 

“Harriet,” he says, pointing to the floor between his feet. “Come here.”

She shakes her head, the movement wild. “I can’t...I can’t do this. I have to go.” 

“We can talk about this —“ 

“I’m so, so sorry,” she says, grabbing her bag and stumbling towards the door. “Please...please forget this ever happened.” 

He’s long past that, however. He knows he can’t forget this. Even as he watches her go, all in a hurry. He can’t just let whatever happened between them go. 

Even if it makes him an awful person.

* * *

Harriet can’t hide from him forever. Though she certainly tries. 

She skips his class the next day, sending Ronald with an excuse of a stomach ache. Clearly faked. Ron doesn’t seem to be any the wiser of their situation, which is a good thing. If he had, Percy would have likely been beaten to a pulp by now. 

He allows her this space to clear her head and come to her senses until the weekend when he can’t stand it any longer. 

Surely she’s going just as mad as he is?

He certainly hopes he’s not alone in this feeling that’s threatening to eat him up. 

There’s no other way but through, he knows. He just needs Harriet to get to that point. 

He sends her a note, asking for her to meet him in his living quarters. He knows it’s likely going to freak her out the moment she reads it, but he can’t have someone walking in on them in a classroom or her running off again at the first sound of suspicious noise. 

He knows she’s got her own ways of getting to him without being caught. Sure enough, when there’s a knock on his door ten minutes past when he’s asked her to arrive, he opens it to find nothing but air there. 

A second later, Harriet materializes from behind her invisibility cloak, looking at him with wide eyes and parted lips. 

He backtracks until they’re both safely in his room, shutting the door behind him, and watching as she fully removes the cloak. She’s not wearing her uniform this time. Nearly a shame, but she’s got on a pair of muggle leggings that he likes and a shirt that’s too loose on her and falls off her shoulder. 

She’s got a smattering of freckles there. He never knew. 

He swallows. 

“Thank you for meeting me here,” he says, hoping him speaking first will ease her nerves. 

“I really shouldn’t be here,” she says softly. “It’s — it’s not a good idea.”

“Us?” he asks, cutting to the chase. He’s spent too much time agonizing over everything not to. “The kissing?”

“Yes,” she says, looking at him. 

“Because I’m your professor?”

She shakes her head. “No, not that. Well, I mean. That’s certainly part of it. But it’s not as though...I’m eighteen you know. And you’re…”

“Twenty-two,” he finishes for her. 

“It’s not such a big difference when said aloud. And it’s not like I’m attending school as a minor. I shouldn't even  _ be _ at Hogwarts at this age.”

“Then what is it then? If that’s not the sole reason?”

Harriet looks at him, her features forming into a frown. 

“You don’t like me,” she says. “You...we’ve never gotten along. We’re too different. You think I’m too brash. I think you’re a bit stuck up. We clash, you and I.”

Percy can’t help the laugh that escapes. Of all the misguided reasons the girl could possibly have…

“I don’t dislike you,” he admits. “Far from it, actually.”

“But you — you’re so  _ hard  _ on me,” Harriet protests, trying to make sense of it all. He knows she’s too oblivious to. “You’re harder on me than anyone else.”

“No one else gets underneath my skin like you do,” he whispers. “No one else makes me feel like you do.”

“I don’t understand anything about this. How we could ever work. Why  _ you  _ of all people…” She clutches at her heart and he understands. “I don’t understand anything.”

“You don’t have to understand everything right away. Just...do you want me? The same way I want you. Do you want me like that?”

“Yes,” she breathes, meeting him in the eye. She’s always been so good at that, he muses. Not backing down. Being brave enough even in uncertainty. 

He himself has been a coward in the past. He knows he doesn’t deserve someone like her, yet she wants him. 

And he wants to be worthy of her choosing him. 

He moves first this time, wanting to show her his certainty through the action. Wanting her to see that yes,  _ yes  _ he is hard on her, but does she not see why? 

Does she not see how he adores her?

Does she not see the actual way in which she frustrates him? 

He growls it into her mouth, accepting the whimpering sound she makes in return with goosebumps. He has to bend his knees to kiss her since he’s no longer angled against the front of his desk. How has he never realized just how much taller he is than her? 

Perhaps it is made more defined by the way he can feel her own legs trembling, and the way she is gripping the front of his shirt for support.

He can fix this. 

“Wrap your legs around me,” he orders, bending his knees and gripping her thighs to lift her up. 

She does as she’s told, for once in her life she listens to him. They’re rewarded with a new angle, more level than before. 

“I don’t understand,” she’s whimpering against his mouth. He lets his lips wander down the arch of her throat to hear her better. “ _ Oh, Merlin…  _ I just — I don’t understand this at all.” 

“I adore you,” he says, imploringly so. Each word gets punctuated with a kiss to her neck. “I want you, I  _ need  _ you. I like you more than I’ve ever wanted to admit.” 

_ Please, please say you like me too. _

“How?” she asks, tugging at the hair on the back of his neck. “Why me?”

“It was never a choice for me. It’s always been you.”

Her voice wavers like she’s near tears when she gasps next. He’s hardly ever seen her cry. He starts to kiss up her cheek, his lips brushing the corner of her eye where there are fresh tears ready to spill. 

She’s never considered herself wanted, he knows. She’s never thought of anyone wanting her for solely her. 

But he does. 

He wants her more than he’s ever wanted anything. 

She must know that. She must feel it in the way he kisses her.

“Bed,” she cries. He can tell she’s desperately trying not to let her tears fall. “Bed, please,  _ please,  _ take me to your bed!”

He obeys. How can he not?

It’s a few stumbling steps away, his bed, but it takes him a few uncoordinated extra movements with Harriet so attached to him to find it. They fall together, Percy holding onto her tightly and pulling her upwards until her head is resting on his pillow. 

“It’s neatly made,” she comments with a laugh, one of her hands sacrificing its feel of him to palm the sheets. There aren’t any wrinkles for her to smooth out, but he watches as she tries anyway. “Mine is a disaster.”

“I am not surprised,” he says, placing a kiss to her lips. “Much like the person who rests in it, I assume.”

“You can’t be mean to me anymore,” she orders, her thumbs tracing his jawline as they trade kisses. “We’re past that. You’ve said you adore me. You’ve got to say other nice things to me now.”

“Hmm,” he hums against her temple. “What should I tell you then? How completely gorgeous you are? How funny I think you are? That I have to wait until you leave class some days to hide my laughter from your smart mouth.”

“Yes,  _ yes,”  _ she says, her back arching as he moves down her throat again. He nips at her pulse point, finding it wild. “Tell me more things like that.”

“You’re so funny, I cannot stand it,” he continues, ever at her service. “And the way you smile...I think I may die on the days I don’t see it.”

_ “Oh.” _

She’s clumsily thrusting her hips against his, trying to elevate the pressure she must feel there. The action causes him to drop his head into her shoulder and hiss. Almost on instinct, his hand goes to wrap around her leg, pulling it against his hips as he pushes back with his own aching hardness. 

She seems to like this, crying out and urging him on, so he does it a few more times with purpose. 

He gives a more well aimed thrust, and Harriet arches her back, moaning. There’s no one here to hear them. They’re alone, and she is entirely his in that moment. Maybe that’s why he lets the more primal side of his mind take over. The one he tries so very hard to ignore. 

The one he can never seem to disregard around her. 

“Percy,” she starts to pant, begging him for something she cannot articulate. “Percy,  _ Percy!  _ Something...something is happening. It feels too good, I can’t — I can’t handle it.”

His eyes widen at his realization. 

“You’ve never…”

“Never what?” she repeats, her hands moving to tangle themselves in her hair. She is nearly sobbing. “Oh, god, Percy. I don’t...I don’t know what I need!”

“Shh,” he shushes, placing a kiss to her scar. He picks up the pace of his rocking, eyes nearly rolling back in his head as he does. “I know exactly what you need. Let me give it to you. Just relax.”

They’re still entirely clothed and about to fall apart just from this. She will shatter him when he finally gets to be inside of her. Something he never even allowed himself to think possible before, but now seems entirely in his reach at this moment. 

“Oh,  _ god,  _ Percy,” she begs.  _ Begs.  _ He’s never seen her so submissive. It is doing wicked things to his ego. “Please, don’t stop. I want — I need — I need you...”

He thrills at this. Absolutely  _ thrills  _ at it. 

Harriet Potter needs him. 

He cannot disappoint. 

“Look at me,” he commands when her eyes start to flutter shut. She opens them like he’s placed an enchantment over her. She is so close, he can tell by the jerky way she is writhing underneath him. “I want to see you when this happens.”

“When what —” She cannot wrap her mind around a single sentence. Cannot find the energy to get one out. He is the one having this affect on her. 

A few more well directed thrusts to the spot where she is nearly damp with her need, and she shatters from underneath him. 

The sound she makes isn’t pretty. It doesn't have to be. He expects nothing less. It’s as animalistic as he feels in that moment. Looking directly at him as she gasps and thrashes. 

_ “Percy!” _

It’s the final cry of his name that does it. 

He follows directly behind her, burying his head into her shoulder and cursing as he shakes.

He  _ never  _ uses language like that. She has ruined him. He kisses her for it. 

“What...what…” She can’t even begin to comprehend what’s just happened. He chuckles. 

“I’m assuming that was your first time you’ve ever... _ finished,”  _ he says, kissing her lazily. He’s not as much of a prude as she suspects him of being. He can let his curiosity get the better of him in some situations. 

This being one of them. 

“I never — I could never figure it out,” she admits, blushing furiously. “It never worked when I tried it myself.” 

“Some people are like that. Their own touch doesn’t do a thing for them.” 

“How embarrassing,” she mutters, curling into his chest and hiding her face. 

“It’s not,” he says, laughing. “Hey, look at me.” 

She does, and it’s different from how she’s ever looked at him before. More trusting. The edge is gone from her eyes. 

“It’s not a big deal,” Percy tells her. “I’m sort of...glad I got to be the one to help you.” 

He’s glad he got to watch her first climax. He’ll store this memory up in his mind for as long as he lives. He’ll conure a thousand patronuses from it. 

“Do you…” Harriet starts, finding the button on the front of his shirt extremely interesting all of a sudden. Is this what she’s like when she’s shy? “Do you want to keep helping me with it?”

“Do you want me to?” 

“Yes,” she says, looking up at him. “God, yes.” 

“So…” Percy says, lips twitching with amusement. “Sort of like your professor with benefits.” 

She laughs. It’s a beautiful sound. 

“You did say you wanted to give me material so I’d be less bored in class,  _ professor.”  _

He shivers at the word. He thinks of all the ways he can make her say it later. 

“Then I think I can manage to clear some time in my schedule to give you some extra attention, Miss Potter.”

**Author's Note:**

> Don't forget to comment!


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